The Tales of Holby
by Tanith Panic
Summary: In the upmarket but surreal garden of a new exclusive nightclub, three of the Holby staff confide their stories to a compassionate stranger.
1. Chapter 1

TALES OF HOLBY

(Dull title, I know, but it's taken from my favourite opera, Tales Of Hoffman which I've always wanted to write something about. Three troubled people from Holby General Hospital visit the strange new Olympia nightclub. In its illuminated gardens they each confide in a compassionate stranger who maybe has past suffering of his own to bear.)

Hardly anybody was downstairs in the Olympia nightclub; everybody was taking advantage of the warmth of the first real days of summer as they sat drinking in the garden, which had coloured lights and laser displays to enhance the entertainment which probably accounted for the slightly expensive drinks.

"Look at that for an effect" Rita told her boyfriend Iain enthusiastically, "That guy sitting over there's by a mirror but there's no reflection. How cool is that?"

"Mmm" Iain was only half-listening. He was planning to tell Rita that this relationship of theirs was a mistake and that he still wanted to be friends. He suddenly began to chuckle at a ragged rendition of a song by some of the junior doctors:

"He went out in a dirty anorak, a dirty anorak,

He nicked pills for the pain in his old back, the pain in his old back…"

Iain listened a little harder but could only catch the final two lines:

"Smack, whack, smack whaaaack, that was, that was, Big Mac."

Rita thumped him.

"There'll be hell to pay if Big Mac overhears that lot. He's been on the straight and narrow ever since he confessed about the tablets and Connie let him keep his job."

Zoe wondered if she had come to the right place. The 'friend of a friend' had told her that Ben Chiltern might be able to help her, but he could be hard to track down. Following her friend's description, she looked round and suddenly saw the young man next to the blank mirror effect. She walked slowly towards him and asked:

"Mind if I sit here?"

The young man was handsome in his way, though he was slim to the point of looking fragile, and his skin was almost translucently pale. He had a head of dark curls, and large blue/grey eyes that seemed to reflect kindness.

If this was Ben, he cut right to the chase:

"You need advice?"

Zoe nodded.

"I… I'm not sure if you'll believe me."

"I wouldn't still be sitting here if I didn't think you were genuine. Your eyes hold sorrow and you feel you can't share that sorrow with many, if anybody at all. Is that right?"

Zoe nodded. Ben smiled encouragingly – his smile was warm and kind – and made her blurt out the core of her problem without sidestepping it.

"I may have given my soul away."

Ben didn't laugh or tell her not to come out with such crap, or to stop wasting his time. He took one look at the mirror, where neither his nor Zoe's reflection could be seen, and said gently:

"Tell me."

And Zoe began her tale.


	2. Chapter 2

TALES OF HOLBY CHAPTER TWO

Nick Jordan enjoyed watching Max squirm. This young idiot owed him a small fortune and now he was trying to duck out of what could be his salvation – not that such a word really suited Nick's machinations.

"That woman who's just come in. See her?"

How could Max miss her? Of Indian origin, the woman was dark-haired, her skin the colour of coffee, her eyes like pools of dark chocolate.

"You want me to bring her over to you?"

Nick withered Max with a glance.

"I want you to seduce her. She looks as if she could be – let's say, careless – with her affections. Charm her, seduce her and then…"

Max knew what was coming, and loathed it.

"Why?" he burst out, "Why do you always have to take souls?"

Jordan slapped him hard across the mouth. In any place but the Gondola Bar, a bouncer would have been across to Jordan in seconds. Here, they looked away, or worse, gave Nick a thumbs-up sign.

Then Nick seemed to soften.

"Look, Max, you're a good kid. I want to reward you for your loyalty to me, but you only get _this_ after I get the lady's soul.

He took out a leather case, and passed it to Max who opened it nervously, for fear of harming the contents.

"It's awesome!"

The watch had to be expensive, if not priceless. It was decorated tastefully with diamonds.

"Yours if you can get her soul. One night should do it. Go get her, boy… oh and just a squirt of breath freshener first, eh? Now don't look offended; Thai food does the same to everybody.

Max took the spray that Nick offered, used it, and moved in on Zoe.

"Hi, you're – well, you're stunning. What are you drinking?" Max asked.

Of course it had to be the special house cocktail. Max hoped Nick had given him enough for expenses, as he knew this woman would be wanting at least two more before the night was through.

"Thank you so much for this, Mick."

"It's Max."

Rude cow, he thought, I don't go calling you Zoya, I remember your name. But rude or not, she was indeed beautiful. And that shape of hers!

He smiled at her, and she thought how young and innocent he was. Well he'd be a lot more broke tomorrow, that was for certain.

"I don't suppose you'd like to go into Mr Jordan's private club downstairs? It's a bit nicer there, even if it costs more."

He should have known she wouldn't offer to pay towards her club entry, or for any of the cocktails she'd had.

Zoe awoke, and tried to slip free from Max's restraining arm. Her head was beginning to hurt her, she wanted a shower and before that she wanted the bathroom.

"Zoe, baby…"

She kissed his forehead as if he were a small boy.

"Maxy, darling, let me just excuse myself for a moment and then I'll be right back."

"Ah, of course."

He was actually moved by the way she said 'excuse myself'. Despite being a bit of a grabber, she was ladylike enough.

And, oh, that rear as she walked away!

"You want what?" she asked, giggling. The boy couldn't be serious.

"I want your reflection. To keep. It'd be like… like I always had you in my heart." Max turned on the romance as hard as he could.

She kissed his nose playfully.

"And how would you get that?"

Max put a gold-backed mirror into her hand. The glass seemed to be swirling, but she put that down to her headache.

"My head hurts" she whispered plaintively.

He kept hold of the mirror, and managed to come back with a glass of water, two tablets and the mirror in one hand.

"Couple of Syndol for you. Swallow 'em down. Good girl. You'll feel better soon.

Zoe took the tablets and drank the glass dry.

"Lovely. Now, just look in here for me…"

She looked into the mirror.

"Bit more."

He's off his head, she thought, and kept staring. She gave a squeal of fear. Nick Jordan's face was reflected there instead of her own and the look on his face was not pleasant.

"If that's a special effect from this dump I don't like it!"

And with those words Zoe passed out.

It was pitch-dark when she came to; she had to stagger round the room to find the light-switch.

She dressed as best she could, aware that her clothes were now crumpled and dirty. Making her way through the room to the club outside, she suddenly saw Max sprawled on a sofa with a red-haired woman. A rage welled up inside her. Before she could think what she was doing, she had brought the mirror, which she had brought with her for reasons she didn't understand, down hard on the girl's head. The girl crumpled without a word. Zoe screamed as she saw the back of the mirror; it was red with blood.

"Hell, she's killed Jac!"

One of the other girls came at her.

"You'll get life for this, you murdering bitch!"

Nick's hand sent the other girl flying.

"This way, Zoe. Come on."

She followed him as if she had no choice but her feet were leaden. She'd killed somebody.

Nick led her through the private club, up the stairs and out into the small courtyard.

"We've got what we want from you. Just keep walking away and you'll be fine. We'll sort it with the police. Oh, but first… I'd like you to look over there."

Through the open windows of the stretch limo that made its way out of the courtyard, she could see Max, apparently naked, surrounded by women. They were all squealing and whooping, even – no, especially, Max.

"That's how little he cared for you" Nick told her, adding "I'll be in touch, Zoe. I'll just appear on your doorstep one day and then you'll come and work for me. You'll not even argue about it. Now bugger off home!"

Zoe fled.

Ben's eyes held no judgement; only compassion.

"He can only force you to go with him if he truly has your soul. Your soul went into that mirror, remember? They took your soul and your reflection. So…"

Ben suddenly threw his glass at the mirror beside him. It cracked. And Zoe saw her own shocked face staring back.

"You're free" Ben said quietly.

"How much…"

"Not a penny. You've learned your lesson. There'll be no police visit. Go home now."

Zoe wanted to say more, but fear made her run off. It was only afterwards that she realised. Her reflection had come back into the cracked mirror… but Ben's hadn't.


	3. Chapter 3

TALES OF HOLBY CHAPTER THREE

A/N: Apologies first of all to Zax fans; if I'd known how Saturday's episdode would end I would probably have used another couple for the first story. Just to mention that this is set in a AU Holby with no real time boundaries; so in the next chapter David and Dylan have been friends for some time.

"A stage door?" Dylan Keogh's voice couldn't have been more horrified if his friend and colleague David had said "Let's run down the street naked."

"I'd really like to meet Tonia Crespelle in the flesh, Dylan, and I've been too shy to go alone."

"So that's why you asked me to sit through three hours of 'Carmen' with you? Which, by the way, was more enjoyable than I expected, especially the stabbing."

David tried to keep the urgency out of his voice:

"I know, mate, it's a massive favour, but, um, if we're going we really need to get moving now…"

"Off we go, then" Dylan said with a half-smile, adding in amused contempt:

"Stage door!"

David's heart sank as he saw the crowds round the stage door. He'd have no chance.

His forlorn glance must have caught the eye of the woman opposite him.

"Don't worry; Tonia's a sweetheart and won't text for her car to arrive until she's signed for everybody in the crowd."

David looked like a happy puppy.

Dylan waited patiently – as patiently as Dylan was capable of, that is – with David. After what seemed an age for Dylan and a reasonably short time for David, Tonia came outside.

Dylan didn't expect the shock that ran through him.

With her make-up removed and her short blonde hair replacing the wig she'd worn as Carmen, Tonia looked about eighteen years old, small and fragile. She smiled as she worked her way through the crowds and Dylan realised to his self-disgust that he was actually thinking "She's getting closer." Hell, he wasn't one of the sentimental types who fell in love at first sight. He'd avoided relationships with either sex for most of his adult life, so why was he being stupid now? Look at that; why was he simpering like a child because Tonia had just knelt down to talk to a small girl at her own level. This was ridiculous.

"Only two more in front of us!" David whispered in elation.

"All right, fanboy" Dylan teased but the joke seemed to be coming back to bite him.

He looked round at the rest of the crowd and was aware of a tall, dark bespectacled man who stared fixedly at Tonia. Dylan felt an irrational urge to punch him.

It was probably the urgent pull on his arm from David that stopped him.

"Hello, did you enjoy the performance?"

God, even her voice was musical!

Oh, this is insane" he thought and let David speak. David muttered haltingly about how he'd enjoyed everything, then almost purred like a cat as Tonia signed his programme after asking who she should make the signature for.

"And you?" she smiled at Dylan.

Dylan's dry sense of humour came to his rescue.

"Ah, I'm a cheapskate, David's the only one who bought a programme."

Her laugh was almost musical.

She held out her hand to David for the programme and he handed it back to her. She signed:

"To David's friend, love from Tonia."

"Thank you!" Dylan said, aware he was almost stuttering.

"Antonia!"

The tall dark guy was shouting her.

"Don't waste time with the stragglers, you've signed everything now. The night air isn't good for your voice."

She smiled apologetically at David and Dylan and left with the dark-haired Rottweiller – no, I mustn't call him that, that really does prove I've lost it, thought Dylan.

"Wasn't she awesome?" David prattled as they walked back to David's house.

"A nice lady. Talented, too. Worth the price of the tickets and a night in doggy day care for Dervla."

Next day the once-silent David couldn't stop talking about the opera he'd seen the previous night. Dylan wanted to shout at him to shut the hell up. He knew that he was very unlikely to see Tonia again and it was eating at him. The company was a touring one and even though the production ran until the end of the next week, there was no way that he or David could afford to go again on what they earned… although Dylan did earn substantially more than David. Maybe he could treat David to one more night at the opera as an early birthday present but that would be sending out some very wrong signals to his colleague.

"She's a local girl, you know."

David's sentence brought Dylan back to earth with a bump.

"Really?"

"Lionel Crespel's daughter. You know, the local MP. Spells her name a little differently but that's definitely her."

"I think she stays at her Dad's in between tours."

"My" Dylan let his sarcasm hide his true feelings, "You really do know a lot about her, don't you?"

"Ah come on Dylan, no harm in a little hobby now and then."

"Right" Dylan said, at the same time hardly able to believe what he was doing, "In that case what we need is to go to the box office tomorrow-"

"I can't afford to go again!"

"Neither can I. But I can afford to buy you another programme. And don't tell me you already have one; I know. This one you're going to ask Tonia to sign for a non-existent relative who loves her work but who can't make the gig. That buys you another talk with her and I'll come along for moral support."

"You're a devious blighter, you know, Dylan?"

"You owe me a drink afterwards."

Tonia smiled at both men in recognition but let her gaze linger just a while longer on Dylan.

"Sorry your relative couldn't manage this; the management's aware of the high cost of seats and they are in talks about it."

"Good. It would be great if more people could be encouraged to like the classics" David beamed.

"Antonia!"

The tall dark bodyguard, or whoever he was, was back. His smile was professional but his voice held a warning:

"Now come along gentlemen, don't get too greedy. Ms Crespelle signed for you the other night."

"This is for a nephew, Doctor" Antonia replied.

"Doctor?" Dylan asked.

"Doctor Hanssen, I specialise in hypnosis."

"He's nicknamed Dr Miracle" Tonia smiled. Hanssen took her arm none too gently.

"Let's get you inside, my dear."

With one final hostile stare at Dylan and David, he was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

TALES OF HOLBY FOUR

Ben's eyes were kind but non-judgemental throughout the conversation.

"So what happened after the touring company left?"

Dylan looked ashamed.

"I would spend train fare to go to as many matinees of the company's performances as I could but was too shy – or ashamed – to go to the stage door again, at least to join the crowd there. I used to wait over the road – maybe sit in a bus shelter – just to watch her. One day, to my delight, the Rottweiller wasn't with her. I considered going over after all but it would have meant my sprinting across the road and making a complete idiot of myself. So I went to get a hot drink as I was really tired by then…

Dylan looked up in amazement.

"Tonia?"

"I thought that was you; you and your friend were kind enough to come to the stage door in Holby. You didn't come to the performance today?"

"Not this time. W-would you like a coffee?"

"I would, please."

Dylan gestured awkwardly at the seat next to him. When Tonia settled down, he went over to get her drink. Somehow he knew she would just be drinking coffee with a little milk and none of the speciality drinks so beloved by these kind of coffee shops.

"There you go."

"Thank you. I'll be in Holby again soon; my father lives there and I'll be visiting him."

She sipped her coffee. Then the miracle happened.

"I'd love to meet you again. Would you think me very forward if I asked you to come to dinner with us one night?"

Dylan's heart pounded. Common sense should have told him that this was frighteningly fast.

"Won't your parents mind?"

A shadow passed over Tonia's face.

"Just my father now. My mother… died."

"I'm sorry. What about your – er – doctor? Would he object?"

"Probably. Just between ourselves, Dylan, he frightens me. I keep trying to have the courage to end my treatment but…"

She sighed.

"I should tell Dad really; he can't stand Hanssen. But Hanssen's sly. He's like a snake…"

Tonia shuddered, and Dylan's arm was round her.

"Will you be safe walking back tonight? I could catch a later train."

"Thanks, but I'll be getting a lift from one of the company. I'll need to leave in a minute, but… could I take your telephone number?"

He smiled and gave her a card with the details.

"Well, take care, Dylan."

"And you. I – I look forward to hearing from you."

She kissed his cheek.

"You take care… and save yourself some train fare now you know we'll be meeting again" she teased gently.

Dylan being Dylan thought it was only moral that he confessed to David what had happened. David was thrilled by the whole thing.

"My colleague going out with Tonia Crespelle!"

"Not going out yet, cheeky beggar, and your boss, not your colleague!"

"Ah, it's still awesome."

Lionel Crespel turned out to be a quiet but polite man, very unlike a typical councillor. He had a housekeeper, Mrs Franck, who multi-tasked as cook, and who made a delicious meal for Dylan's visit. Dylan tried to do it justice but there was only one thing he really wanted to concentrate on.

At one time he nodded towards a photograph of a beautiful woman.

"Tonia's mother?" he asked gently.

Lionel nodded.

"Yes; she died far too young. I know to some people I might come across as over-protective of Toni, but… I remember what happened to her mother."

Tonia had sat quietly through this conversation, just listening, with the occasional look at Dylan to see how he took this. Dylan said nothing but looked as if he was waiting for more. Lionel sighed.

"Mireille had a tragic accident – at least the papers called it an accident but I call it murder. She was undergoing treatment for an irrational fear of open spaces – hypnotism, to be precise. The doctor was our friend Hanssen. He made Mireille believe that unseen voices were encouraging her on – benign voices, he said-"

Tears came into his eyes.

"Dad" Tonia whispered gently, "It's okay. Let's change the subject now."

Suddenly Mrs Franck came into the dining room, her face pale.

"I swear I locked the door…"

Hanssen walked into the room behind her.

"Tonia" he said chidingly, "A doctor? Really?"

Dylan had never hit anybody in his life, but went towards Hanssen, arm upraised.

"I could make things very unpleasant for Antonia if you try that."

Dylan's arm dropped.

"I just wanted to see if my instincts were true. Antonia, we've talked about your not having a relationship" Hanssen snapped.

"Get out!" Crespel shouted at him.

"This time" Hanssen conceded and left as silently as he had entered.

"You must think me a coward" Dylan told Ben.

"I don't. That kind of thing would terrify the bravest person. Please continue your story; we can discuss it when you reach the end."

They sat for a long time at the table, the food forgotten, the wine only there to help refresh their dry mouths. Dylan held Antonia protectively.

"Believe me, Doctor Keogh, I've researched all possible explanations. How he could just enter the house and leave it again while the doors are locked. How he managed to do what he did to Mireille… I need to tell you that before we go any further."

"You said she was afraid of open spaces and that his hypnotism killed that fear?"

"Yes. He encouraged her to listen to the voice and she did. The voices told her to go outside, to walk in the street. Mireille told me the voices led her on when she wanted to turn back. And one day she walked a little further on, from the street and into the road. I dared not shout to her; she was like a sleepwalker. When the car came speeding round the corner and hit her, I don't believe she felt a thing. But it killed her all the same. He killed her mother, and now he wants to destroy Antonia."


	5. Chapter 5

HOLBY FIVE

Dylan sat stunned for a moment. Then he was reanimated.

"They say ghosts – or demons – can't cross water. Mr Crespel, do you have enough money to stay at a hotel abroad for a while?"

Crespel nodded.

"Then what we need to do – you too, Mrs Franck, it would be wrong to leave you to take the fallout from his anger – we get abroad. Please forget packing; the main thing is to get out of this house, out of the country."

Dylan knew he was talking wildly but he knew it was the only way.

Antonia looked shocked.

"I can't break off the tour just like that; they'd fire me for being unreliable."

"Tonia, this is your safety we're talking about here."

Antonia pouted.

"You're seriously suggesting uprooting? Just pack and leave everything we know and love? Do you think I can just walk into a theatre and demand starring roles in their next opera? I've pushed my way to the top, Dylan! Fame doesn't just fall into our laps, you know."

"I'm willing to take an indefinite career break to get you somewhere safe" Dylan replied, his voice becoming colder.

"I-I know. But singing's my life-"

"Thank you for confirming my belief in my powers, Antonia" Hanssen's soft, menacing voice was behind them; once more he was in the room, "Now here's somebody you'll trust."

The shadowy form of a woman appeared in the room. Dylan strode towards it, determined to shatter the devilish vision but Hanssen was swifter. He gave Dylan a push that sent him sprawling. And Antonia whimpered:

"Mother!"

"Sing, darling. Follow me… and sing."

Antonia took her cue from what she believed to be her mother. Singing the same melody as the phantom woman sang, in counterpoint, soprano to her 'mother's' contralto.

Up the stairs she followed the woman. Crespel, pale with apprehension, knew where mother and daughter were going.

The rest of the household followed them to the roof gardens that Crespel had created for his wife so many years ago.

Antonia's eyes were shining, her chest heaving, as she sang. The melody became sharper, more insistent. She walked behind her mother. Crespel cried out 'Antonia' to her once, then hurried after her, hoping to restrain her forcibly. Hell, if it saved her, he'd even go against his nature and slap her out of this evil trance.

It was too late. Hanssen gave a dry laugh, and Dylan a cry of grief, just as Antonia's mother – or the thing that pretended to be her mother – stepped off the roof.

Antonia followed. The singing shuddered to a halt as she was flung into space and was shattered on the ground below.

"She died in my arms" Dylan told Ben softly. "We've looked for that bastard Hanssen everywhere but he's gone and taken his evil with him. Lionel's in a home for the mentally disturbed; Mrs Franck, as far as I know, still has nightmares."

He gripped Ben's arms.

"Can't you find him? After all, you're a-"

"I only have the power to listen and suggest ways of healing, my friend. If I could stop evil like that, don't you think I would have? "

Dylan nodded bleakly. He suddenly broke down and sobbed. Ben wanted to hold the man till his pain was over but knew Dylan wouldn't be able to feel his embrace. He could, however, give him one thing.

"You will heal. I swear the pain will become less every day."

"Thank you."

Dylan fumbled for his cheque book.

"So how do I pay?"

Ben smiled sadly.

"Your money would be useless, my friend. This is 'on the house'. Now please leave, as I have the final appointment of the evening. Go home and tonight, you _will_ sleep well."

"Thank you" whispered Dylan and walked slowly out of the Olympia's gardens. Just as Ben's final 'appointment', Caleb Knight, walked towards him.

Ben sighed.

This appointment could be the hardest of all.

Apologies for the short chapter; I wanted to end it after Dylan's tale. The next chapter will be normal length.


	6. Chapter 6

TALES OF HOLBY SIX

A/N thanks for my reviews from my regular readers.

Ethan Hardy was annoyed. His elder brother, Caleb Knight, had been struck by another of his obsessions and a pretty stupid one at that, at least in his, Ethan's, opinion.

"For a start it's not very healthy, is it?"

"Ah, don't be an old prude! It's not like your average tart house, it's an exclusive escort club. You meet the lady that's chosen for you in a lounge and then Mr Spanzanalli arranges the ideal date. But unlike a normal date there's no pussyfooting around trying to get to the important bit without sounding crude. The dates end up back in Spanzanalli's Palace of Dreams and are given a top-class suite for the rest of the night."

"'Palace of Dreams!" snorted Ethan, "Palace of bullsh*t, more like."

"Spanzanalli's is on the internet."

"Oh, you – " Ethan tended to choose clumsy, old-fashioned words when he was frustrated - "You duffer! I could post on the Internet that I was going out with Britney Spears but it wouldn't make it real, would it? Spanzanalli's a nice touch as well, he's probably called Bert Smith."

"Mock, little brother, but I am going to be drawing out some of my savings and visiting Spanzanalli's tomorrow evening, whether there's an RTA, whether Connie Beauchamp tells me I'm fired if I don't stay, whether a meteor falls on Holby."

"Your bank account, your choice. But I still think you're a fool. Clockwork love where you buy and sell bodies for a night – it's not my kind of love. I want my romances to come from the heart."

"My heart's the last part of my anatomy I'm interested in pleasing, Nibbles. Hey, why don't I see if they have any bargain-basement girls for you?"

"You mention my name to that charlatan and I'll hit you somewhere that you need to keep uninjured."

Cal visited the bank that lunchtime and when he came back to the hospital he was even more chirpy, which disappointed Ethan. For Cal's own sake he had hoped there weren't enough funds in Caleb's account for his visit to what Ethan could only think of as a – well, he didn't even like to think the word in his head, let alone say it aloud.

Cal had always been good at hiding disappointment and strain, and this time was no exception. He'd been given the overdraft he'd asked for that afternoon but had been warned that this had to be the last time. His bank would not be lending him anything further. They did suggest a repayment plan but this would have meant Cal would be on pocket-money for a long time and wouldn't be able to afford the visit he felt he needed more than anything else in the world right now. He'd maxed out most of his credit cards, except the ones where the piddly amount left on them wouldn't make any difference. So this visit to Spanzanalli's really would be his first and last. Which was not what Cal wanted. He spent his extended break looking through credit card applications online and being rejected for the ones he'd had time to try before he was angrily summoned back to work by Connie, his beautiful but glacial clinical lead.

The evening had gone well enough and the money Cal had paid fortunately covered the price of the exclusive dinner for the evening, plus his time afterwards with "Melisande" in the room allocated to them in the Palace of Dreams. Cal knew he hadn't sent Melisande away unsatisfied.

It was what happened as Spanzanalli, fawning over him now he'd been paid his exorbitant fee, escorted him to the door.

He'd seen a girl on the upper floor level, standing against the balcony. She was small, dark and looked as if she was of Oriental extraction. And she was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen in his life.

"Is that one of the girls?" he almost gasped.

Spanzanalli's manner became frostier.

"That is my daughter, Lily. She is not 'one of the girls'."

Blown it, thought Cal.

Then came the reply he least expected.

"Why don't you come tomorrow night, 'on the house' to meet Lily for yourself over a glass of wine?"

Cal beamed. 'On the house' sounded good to him and he'd get even closer to this mysterious beauty.

The second his shift was finished, Cal was out of the door, not even pausing to wait for his brother. He rushed home, showered and changed, and was out again before Ethan came in and started asking awkward questions.

Cal was more than a little disappointed to find that his visit to Spanzanalli's was literally to meet Lily. At first, that was. He'd been offered a glass of wine and after the first sip something seemed to happen to him. The room took on a warmer glow. The heavy make-up of some of the 'girls' looked fresh and dewy, their cheap dresses looked stylish and exclusive. As for Lily herself, she looked so young and exquisite that it hardly mattered that she barely spoke all evening. She smiled, she said "Yes, yes" so politely to everything Cal uttered, and she radiated charisma.

There was an ugly moment; Spanzanalli had a visitor, A Mr Coppelius, who was looking somewhat unhappy. Spanzanalli ushered him to a private suite but even through the doors Cal, despite the lethargy caused by the wine, could hear a lot of their conversation.

"She has my eyes!"

"You can't break away from me now, not now our daughter is going to make us rich and happy."

"Just don't you betray me!"

Cal didn't quite see where the bit with the eyes fit in but put two and two together and made five. It was obvious that Spanzanalli and Coppelius were a gay couple who'd adopted Lily, and were having a lover's spat. Cal shrugged; he supposed gay couples could fall out just as easily as straight ones. But he felt so woozy from the wine and the Palace of Dreams was so beautiful that he really didn't want to apply logical thinking.

"So you liked our Lily?"

"What can I say? She's out of this world!"

Cal, still befuddled with whatever was in his wine, didn't notice the twisted grin that came over Spanzanall's face.

"I really would like to take her out to dinner or something like that, Mr Spanzanalli…"

"That is not what I wish."

Cal's heart sank, then began to leap crazily as Spanzanalli outlined what seemed an incredible suggestion.

"My Lily and I, we have debts that will soon cause us shame. I do not want my girl dragged through the mud. I know she would be safe with you, but my price is high. I would need fifteen thousand pounds to cover my debts. If you could see a way to prove you have this much money and are willing to give it to me, I shall let Lily leave with you tomorrow night. I know you will look after her. What do you say?"

Cal knew that what he should say were two short, sharp words, one of which was 'off'. But Cal, by now, was too bewitched and befuddled to think straight. All he knew was that he wanted Lily at any price.

"Yes! Yes, I swear I'll do that for you."

As Cal walked through the streets his euphoria was damped a little by cold reality setting in. He didn't know the girl that well, despite her loveliness, and, the most important thing of all, he knew he didn't have anything like fifteen thousand pounds in his account.

But Ethan had.


	7. Chapter 7

TALES OF HOLBY CHAPTER SEVEN

Trigger warning; hints of strong violence.

Cal bided his time, and finally had the house to himself when Ethan was called in early to an emergency. Or, to be more accurate, both doctors had been called in but Cal had told Ethan he wasn't feeling well. As he'd been crafty and not left his bed all day, Ethan had no choice but to believe him. He tried to brush aside the forebodings about Ethan's shocked reaction to the loss of his money; the drink Spanzanalli had given him still dulled his mind to some extent. Cal had one goal in mind; marry Lily and take her away from her father and his boyfriend.

As soon as he knew Ethan was safely at work he opened his laptop and typed in his brother's password. The rest was simple, and thanks to the 'wine', hardly prickled Cal's conscience.

He timed his taxi to arrive an hour before Ethan was due back home and had to spend some time waiting in a bar near the House of Dreams.

He went to the usual entrance to find a bored-looking girl sitting in the reception area, tapping into a computer.

"What do you want?" she asked rudely.

"I-I have an appointment with Mr Spanzanalli" he began.

"NAME?" she practically barked at him. Cal was about to ask her if she got a refund from the charm school, but pulled himself together.

"Caleb Knight."

At once her manner became fawning, even nervous.

"Sorry; if I'd known who you were I'd have welcomed you to the House of Dreams. Now let me get you set up with a drink and Mr Spanzanalli will soon come to escort you to the purple room. Will our famous Dream Cocktail suit you? I'm Morag, by the way."

"Fine" Cal even managed to smile at her. He thought her change of attitude had been because of his own good looks.

"Caleb, you came! Did you get the-" Spanzanalli smiled in delight as Cal indicated the envelope in his own pocket. The strange man had wanted cash, and Cal was anxious to pass the money over; it made him feel vulnerable with so much money on him. Once he'd paid Spanzanalli he would have just enough left for a taxi home for himself and Lily, and then in the morning he'd have to confront a furious Ethan… Lily's beauty would charm Ethan, he was sure… damn it, he would not think of Ethan right now.

"The priest will be arriving shortly for the ceremony" Spanzanalli told him calmly. Cal felt a tiny sense of panic.

"Do you think I could have a few moments alone with Lily first?" he asked.

"Of course! A party's in progress here until the reverend Fletcher arrives. I'll send my lovely daughter to you. You can give her that precious envelope."

Cal waited a short while and then Lily entered. She seemed to glide in. She was already attired like a bride, in the loveliest wedding dress Cal had ever seen. Made of creamy satin it had a fitted bodice then the full, long skirt fell in a sparkle of thousands of tiny pearls to match the ones set in her dark hair.

"Darling Lily!"

Her cheek was cool as he kissed her.

"Are you excited about our future together?" he asked.

"Yes… yes."

Let's hope you talk more when we're married, but hey, who cares? He thought.

Suddenly Lily turned her head. She'd heard the musicians. Something responded in her.

"Dancing!" she smiled, and with more strength than he could have imagined her capable of, pulled him to his feet. The next thing, she was steering him into the main room and whirling him around the vast dance floor.

"Lily! More slowly, darling" her father chided.

"Yes… yes."

But she continued to whirl Cal around. Suddenly everything went black. She'd steered him into a wall and he'd knocked himself unconscious.

When he revived, he was quickly told that Lily had become over-excited and had gone to lie down for a moment. But what was slowly seeping into his consciousness was that something was very wrong.

How wrong, he was yet to learn.

Suddenly, Jack, Spanzanalli's trainee apprentice, came running in, his face glowing with nervous sweat.

"That man… he's here. He's gone after Lily!"

Cal and Spanzanalli dashed after Jack, but they were too late. Coppelius was walking into the ballroom, holding Lily's limp form.

Cal's first sickening thought was that he'd killed her. But worse, if that were possible, were to come.

The first thing the furious Coppelius did was to turn to Spanzanalli and yell at him:

"You sent me to get money from a duff account, you bastard!"

Then he calmly wrenched out Lily's lovely almond eyes and threw them at Cal. There was a metallic tinkle as they hit the floor near him, while Cal reared back with nauseated horror. The wedding guests and even the priest were just watching with curious half-smiles on their faces.

Then Coppelius threw Lily at the wall. She smashed. Into several metallic pieces.

As Cal almost sobbed in shame, somebody from the crowd screeched:

"He was! The stupid bugger was about to marry a robot!"

"Poor old Spanz. He'd have carried it off if he'd used a real bank account."

By now Coppelius and Spanzanalli were fighting together on the ground; their hands going for each other's eyes and throats. Cal didn't stop to see which one of them killed the other, if any; he staggered out in self-disgust and humiliation, the money safe in the envelope that he'd not managed to hand over. He saw Jack, white as a sheet, running out of the Palace Of Dreams, presumably never to return.

"So you were able to replace the money and Ethan never knew how far you'd got into trouble" Ben reflected gently.

"Yeah, I can't deny that's a good thing. But the shame – the humiliation. Why couldn't I see it was a robot? Everybody else in that room could."

"Because he was an unscrupulous thief and he'd drugged you. The memories of that night will hurt and embarrass you for a long time but you will heal. I promise."

"Yeah, you can sit there and say that, but…"

"One thing you should be grateful for" Ben tried to make Cal smile, "You were saved from marrying her. You never had the embarrassing experience of getting intimate with a robot-"

Cal's eyes hardened.

"Are you laughing at me? You self-righteous, skinny little bastard?"

Ben's smile was gentle but it was the smile that made Cal's rage boil over. He smashed his glass hard on the table.

Then he ground the jagged end into Ben's pale, handsome face.


	8. Chapter 8

TALES OF HOLBY EIGHT

Sweeet-As-Honey: You're absolutely right, that last scene was never in the opera. I think the revelation that Olympia (or in this case) Lily can go through various degrees of gruesome depending on the director. Although I've never seen a sadder Olympia than Natalie Dessay – one vicious push and she's 'broken' mentally and physically again. But back to this version; I did want real closure for my story so here's a little more that wasn't in the opera.

Cal broke down, sobbing in remorse and shock at what he'd become. Wiping his wet eyes, nose and mouth on his sleeve – Cal no longer cared about the state of his clothes, he looked up, afraid to see the extent of the damage he'd wrought but knowing he had to confront it. He had disfigured somebody whose only intention was to try to help him; what kind of animal had he become?

Ben's face was unscarred; he was looking compassionately at Cal.

"That's already been done to me" he told the terrified doctor, "It's what killed me in the first place."

Cal recoiled.

"Did you never notice I had no reflection?" Ben asked kindly.

Cal shook his head. He'd noticed little apart from his own rage and the need to take it out on somebody.

Ben began the final tale.

"I was a nurse; I loved my job but was always nervous even when I was promoted to a higher band. One day I was stupid enough to come into work when I'd had very little sleep; there was a trainee nurse at the hospital. I know now that she was taking pills to give her energy and wasn't in full control of herself that day. She proved herself to be incompetent but when I took her aside and told her she should go home, she pleaded with me to stay on. She had family problems and was a single parent who needed the money. Like a fool, I told her she could stay and work. I could have saved her life if I'd sent her home. You'll understand this, being a doctor – she electrocuted herself on a defibrillator because she didn't stand clear in time; I should have seen what she was doing. We tried to save her but she died."

"It was her fault!" Cal asserted. He was steadier now; the tears had ceased.

"I looked away for a split-second. It was enough. The hearing went in my favour and I was allowed to keep my job but I was full of remorse. That night as I was walking through the hospital grounds, knowing I'd not sleep when I got home, I was confronted by her angry daughter."

Ben opened his shirt to the waist to reveal the rough scars round a wound in his abdomen.

"The girl had a knife."

Cal didn't want to back away any more. Whatever kind of spirit Ben was, he wasn't a malevolent one.

"But why can't you find peace? You seem to be a good man; why are you condemned to hearing everybody's stories?"

Ben smiled sadly.

"I'm condemning myself. Only when I can finally let all the remorse go from my heart, can I find peace. That's why I'm here night after night. Waiting for the troubled, the angry, the frightened to bring me their stories. To try to help them. With every tale I'm told, my grief becomes a little less. Some day I'll be able to let go and sleep for good. But now, I want YOU to go home and sleep well. Repay the money into your brother's account; I can assure you he'll never know if you can repay it before midnight tomorrow. And don't condemn yourself for what you did to me. It was rage and despair that possessed you for a while."

Cal shuddered, but smiled.

"As easy as that?"

"You were punished enough. Now, will you go home?"

Cal nodded, stunned.

"Come back here sometime; in a month, a year. You'll know I'm at peace if you can't find me again."

"Thank you."

Cal rushed home, repaid the money and gave Ethan a bear hug when his brother arrived back from work.

"What's that for?"

"Let's just say you were right and I've had a narrow escape."

"Did she turn out to be just another working girl?"

"Ethan, she was as cold as a doll! Next time I'm looking for a woman with a heart and soul first."

The seasons changed; in a few months Cal went back to the Garden. He found the place where Ben had been sitting.

"You looking for the guy who gives out advice?" asked a friendly-looking man.

Cal nodded.

"Yeah, me too. I went looking for him but it sounds as if he's moved away."

Cal smiled slowly.

"Maybe he's found somewhere better."

THE END


End file.
